


Unwanted Response

by ikuzonos



Series: The Friends We Used to Know [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Multi, NDRV3 Spoilers, Recovery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unusual Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuzonos/pseuds/ikuzonos
Summary: [Major Endgame NDRV3 Spoilers]A very bitter part of him wishes that none of them had ever woken up, not even him. Of course, Saihara’s wished that on himself a hundred times before, and it hasn’t come true yet.Slowly, the others begin to awaken, but it doesn't make things any easier.





	

Saihara meets his doctor every morning at exactly ten thirty. He gets a quick cursory examination, and then is sent on his day. Recently though, his doctor has been keeping him longer and longer, likely because he’s taken up smoking.

He didn’t mean to. He knows it’s detrimental to his health. But when he’s awake at one in the morning from stress and insomnia, lighting a cigarette just helps calm him down. He’ll be addicted to the nicotine in no time at all, just like Maki is, but Saihara tries to brush it off.

His doctor tries to prescribe him gum so that he’ll quit smoking, but Saihara vehemently refuses. It doesn’t have the same effect that the dark smoke does. Eventually, his doctor accepts that he’s going to be stubborn and sends Saihara on his way.

His doctor furiously writes something down on his clipboard as Saihara leaves the room. Saihara tries not to hate him, but the man yells every word he says, and two hair gelled antennae stick up from his forehead. 

He pretends that superficial things like that are the only reasons he hates all the staff here, but that’s a lie. He hates them all because they’re all liars and murderers, because they slaughter students like it’s just a game.

(But to them, it _is_ just a game, right? That’s why this has happened fifty-two times before, right?)

Today, Saihara visits the hospital. He signs a few waivers, a sign-in sheet, and then a disclosure agreement. After all that, he’s allowed to wander the halls and visit any awake patients.

The hospital is nothing but bright white lights everywhere he looks. The spotless tiles and dusted corners make him feel uneasy, like he’s not in the real world anymore. Saihara pulls his hat down over his eyes as he traverses the corridors. He doesn't know why he got rid of it during the killing game, and it's a comfort to have now.

Room 804 is accepting visitors today. Saihara pushes the door open gently, and has to squint because it’s somehow even brighter in the individual rooms. The patient looks over to the door from her bed, and a bright smile jumps onto her face.

“Hi! Angie was wondering if she was going to see you today!”

Saihara approaches her bed slowly, and looks down at her, “Hi, Yonaga-san. Are you feeling better?”

Angie was the first one to wake up from her coma, six days ago. She hasn’t been allowed to leave the hospital, not until she’s been declared ‘safe.’ She’s been restrained to her hospital bed, and it looks hideously uncomfortable. Angie doesn’t seem to mind, but she’s almost obnoxiously cheerful about everything.

Angie chirps, “She’s doing good! Her doctor says that Angie might get to leave soon, and so she might see you at the next group therapy meeting! Angie’s very excited to leave but… right now her neck hurts really badly.”

Saihara’s stomach twists. In the back of his mind, he sees a shadow drive a katana right through Angie’s neck. He wonders if she remembers the game. It’s never been clear to him.

Angie’s never called him by name, so she might not even know who he is.

“I hope that you get out of here soon,” Saihara responds evasively. He’s never liked hospitals, and he hates wards like these. He’s done his time in too many of them, and he has few happy memories of them.

Angie beams, “Thank you! Angie hopes that she’ll be feeling perfect by her next examination. Kami-sama is looking out for her!”

Saihara glances at the clock on the wall. He stalls for a moment, then says, “I should go. Thanks for talking to me, Yonaga-san.”

Angie waves as best as she can from her position on the bed, her hospital gown sagging, “Bye-bye!”

Saihara leaves the room with a heavy heart. A very bitter part of him wishes that none of them had ever woken up, not even him. Of course, Saihara’s wished that on himself a hundred times before, and it hasn’t come true yet.

The hallways are still uncomfortable to walk down, but he makes it to the end of one with time. There's one single room at the end, and he peers into the tiny viewing window. Nobody besides the doctors are allowed into Hoshi’s room quite yet. Yesterday evening, he awoke from his coma, only to pass out almost immediately after. From the window, Saihara can just barely see him, curled up on his bed.

He looks strange without his hat.

Saihara watches him for a few minutes more, then backs away from the window. He’s left a greasy nose print on it, but he can’t be bothered to wipe it away. One of the shiny-eyed staff members will clean it up anyways.

Part of his brain says that he should just go back to his room and cry. Then he can try and write down his feelings like his psychologist suggested, even though they always come out as illegible scribbles.

Instead of going back to his room - which is really just a prison cell with a nice view - Saihara goes to the pod room. He’s not legally allowed inside, but if he just stands in the doorway, then he’s not breaking the rules, right? Right?

The fifteen pods surround the computer system in a semi circle. Most of them are still lit up, and if Saihara looks closely, he can see his friends on the other side of the soft, green glass. Kaede’s pod is the closest to him currently, and he stares at her almost longingly.

Her hair has grown long, and her clothes look tight. It’s been two and a half months since Saihara woke up, but it feels like a lifetime.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” says a voice from behind him. Saihara turns to see one of the scientists, a man with spiky black hair and a brilliant blue lab coat.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was just… hoping to get a status update?”

His lie is flimsy, but the scientist appears to believe him, and flips through his clipboard.

(Saihara wonders if everyone who works here has one of those.)

“Well, Toujou-san, Momota-san, and Amami-san appear to be doing the best at the moment,” he replies, “And Akamatsu-san and Gokuhara-san are both showing signs of improvement.”

Saihara nods along mindlessly, and looks out at the pods. He wants them to wake up, but he also never wants to see any of them again.

The scientist continues, “Our dear Shirogane-san is doing awful, however. Since both her and Ouma-san were crushed, it appears that they may not wake up at all.”

Saihara’s fists clench at his sides at the mention of Shirogane. He wouldn’t care at all if she died, and it doesn’t make him feel guilty at all. She doesn’t deserve to wake up, not after everything that she did to the rest of them.

“Was that all you wanted to know?” the scientist asks.

Saihara mumbles a reply and pushes his way out of the room. Tears are brimming in his eyes, and he still has no idea why.

-

He sleeps.

Saihara sleeps and sleeps, and when he’s not sleeping, he smokes. Rarely, if he’s not doing either, he’ll cry. He’s scared and stressed, and it’s become so easy to just hide away from the rest of the world.

He knows that none of them are looking for him. He skipped going to group therapy this week, and nobody asked for him.

Sometimes, he dreams. Dreams of libraries with walls too high, and of girls with hair clips in the shape of music notes. Once or twice he’s wished that he could go back in the simulation, if only to see her again, if only to hold her hand in a classrooms with orange lights one more time.

Saihara always wakes with a start, cold sweat mixing with his tears as he remembers that he’s still locked up in the studio, that he still has no way home.

One night, he’s jolted awake from a peaceful dream - one sitting next to Kaede and watching the stars - by a loud knock on his door. He hisses curses all the way before he opens it, and falls short when he’s greeted by Maki.

They stare at each other for awhile, not knowing what to say. Maki’s red irises are just as piercing as ever, but Saihara’s too tired to be afraid of her any longer. Not that she's particularly dangerous in the real world.

Eventually, Maki says, “She woke up. Akamatsu, I mean. She’s in the hospital right now, and they won’t allow her visitors for the next bit, but I thought you’d like to know.”

His heart swells, then drops in his chest. Kaede, sweet Kaede, is awake again, but he knows that she’s not the person from the simulation, not the person that he fell in love with.

“Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He doesn’t even realize that he’s collapsed on his floor until he notices that Maki is standing sideways.

He has to see her again, no matter what it takes.

-

Two days after he finds out that she’s out of her coma, Saihara approaches her hospital room. The plaque on the door states that she’s accepting visitors, so he lightly pushes on the handle, and enters.

Kaede is lying on her bed, still strapped to it, but her eyes are open. Saihara assumes that’s a good thing and moves closer to her.

“A-Akamatsu-san?” he stumbles. He hates how shaky his voice has become.

Kaede looks at him weakly, her expression lackadaisical and tired. Her voice creaks, “You… came to see me?”

He nods, “I wanted to see you as soon as I could. I’ve missed you so much, Akamatsu-san, and I just… I couldn’t _not_ speak to you.”

Kaede repeats, “You came to see me? But… why?”

“Because… because we were friends,” Saihara says, “In the simulation? Don’t you remember me? It’s Saihara-”

Kaede’s eyes widen a considerable amount, and she bristles, “Get out.”

Saihara freezes, “Akamatsu-san?”

“Get out!” Kaede shrieks, struggling to sit up, “ _GET OUT!_ ”

He gets out.

-

He passes by her room every day for the next week, but he never goes inside. He peers into the one way glass, wondering if he can see her. Sometimes she’s sitting up, other times she’s asleep. Once or twice, he’s peered in to see her in the midst of medical testing, and silently backs away.

Every time that Saihara enters the hospital, he’s told at the front desk that he’s not allowed into Room 778, even though the plaque states that the patient is accepting visitors. He tries to take it in stride, but he feels tears threaten to burst out each time he is told this.

When he’s not pacing the hospital or crying in his room, he sits in the cafeteria with Angie. Somehow, he’s able to hang around her without wanting to tear his skin off. He knows that he couldn’t spend this much time with Himiko or Maki, or Hoshi if he wanted to do anything of the sort.

Angie has taken up finger painting. The studio is quick to provide her with canvases and paints, and her happiness is infectious. Her hands are all different colours of the rainbow right now. Saihara can’t tell what she’s painting, but it’s making her so overjoyed that he can’t help but smile a bit as well.

“Hey, Shuuichi,” she says one afternoon, “Why are you always hanging out with Angie? She’s not complaining, but she didn’t think that you liked her very much.”

She knows his name now. That makes him feel a little better.

“You’re my friend,” Saihara says carefully, “Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?”

Angie shrugs, “Angie thought that Shuuichi would be spending time with Kaede.”

Saihara flinches, “Akamatsu-san is… mad at me.”

Angie dips her pinky into the green paint, then drags it across her canvas, “Angie talked to her this morning. She was really nice to Angie! What did Shuuichi do to make Kaede so mad at him?”

Saihara looks at the table helplessly, “I don’t know.”

“Do you want Angie to talk to her for you?”

Saihara looks back up at her, “You would… do that for me?”

Angie nods cheerfully, “Of course! Angie and Shuuichi are friends, right? Friends help friends!”

Saihara smiles, and Angie reaches out to tap him gently on the cheek. She leaves a big spot of paint behind, but he doesn’t mind one bit.

-

The next time he sees Angie, it’s nine o'clock the next night. She holds the armrests of her wheelchair tightly as she talks, looking dejected.

“Angie talked to Kaede,” she says quietly, “And Kaede says that she can’t ever talk to Shuuichi again, not after, ah, betraying him the way she did. Her words, not Angie’s.”

Saihara feels himself slump, “She didn’t betray me… I _want_ to see her! Doesn’t she get it?”

Angie replies, “Kaede also says that Shuuichi deserves better than her. She’s not the same person she was in the simulation, and she needs him to realize that.”

Saihara feels his stomach contort, “Akamatsu-san…” he can’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have any words that can express the _despair_ that has grown in his heart.

Finally, he chokes out, “Thanks, Yonaga-san. I appreciate it.”

Angie shrugs, “Take care, Shuuichi. Angie needs to get going now.”

He waits until Angie has left the room, and then Saihara slumps against the wall, collapsing on the floor. He doesn’t go to bed that night, but he does smoke his way through an entire box of cigarettes.

-

Kaito regains consciousness.

Saihara doesn’t go to see him. They were best friends before, but now? Now Kaito would probably rather die than see him.

-

There is a letter on his bed when Saihara returns from group therapy one afternoon.

_Hospital. Room 778. 5pm. Don’t be late._

When he enters the hospital, the receptionist doesn’t tell him that he’s banned from Kaede’s room, and nobody bats an eye as he goes right for the seventh wing.

Kaede is unrestrained and sitting on her bed when he walks in. She gestures to a wooden stool near the wall, and Saihara sits down.

“You… wanted to see me?” Saihara asks.

Kaede nods, and swings her legs, “I feel awful for yelling at you. I’m sorry, I was overwhelmed and upset, but that doesn’t excuse my actions.”

Saihara says gently, “That’s fine, I forgive you! I really-”

She cuts him off, “But I stand by what I told Yonaga-san. You deserve better. I’m not the person that you cared for in the simulation, and I don’t think we should be friends now.”

Kaede’s voice is filled with agony.

Saihara whispers, “Why can’t we learn to be friends again? I don’t want to leave you behind!”

Kaede responds, “I’m not a good person. I’m sorry, Saihara-kun, but I’m not worth it.”

“Even though I-” Saihara breaks off before he can finish the sentence, but his words lie unspoken in the room.

_Even though I loved you?_

Kaede nods, “I’m sorry. But you should go… and we shouldn’t be friends.”

Saihara stands, “I’ll go… But I can’t leave you alone! I will visit you, and we can start over! We’ll start slow, and build our way back up. Does… does that sound okay?”

Kaede sniffles, then nods again. He approaches her, then hugs her tightly. Before she can say anything, he lets go, and runs out.

He looks back through the one way glass after closing the door, and see that she’s begun to cry again.

Instead of going right back to his room, Saihara finds out Kaito’s room number from the receptionist, and then goes to meet with him.

Even if Kaito never wants to speak to him again… he needs to at least try, right? That’s what friends are for.


End file.
